A Sign

Despite your comments, Facebook messages, texts, phone calls and doorstep pleadings, when I made my last post I had every intention of it actually being my last post. Some of you didn't take me seriously anyway, so I guess it'll come as no surprise that here I am posting. But I had to...I saw a sign...like an-image-of-Virgin-Mary-on-my-grilled-cheese-sandwich kind of sign...

Look what I found when I went to clean the glass on my back door:

I have no idea who it is, but I think it's a sign that I'm supposed to keep blogging. Too bad I cleaned it off. If I left it until after I posted, there coulda been a shrine with people holding candles in my back yard right now. ;)

Announcing...

...my retirement from the blogging world. I'm so serious.

I spent all afternoon crafting a much-requested post for your reading pleasure. It was a rather detailed post relating a simple, kind of silly thing I was really excited about today. Then with one misplaced keystroke I ruined it. The only way to fix it would be to start over again, which I'm too angry to waste my time doing. It's probably more than just that that has me feeling like I'm about to boil over right now, but I need a scapegoat. If I had an idiot to berate or a block of wood to smash some nails into, or an idiot to berate, or some cheap dishes to throw against my cinder block wall (and someone else to do the clean-up), or an idiot to berate, the blog might not be getting the ax. But I don't, so it is.

p.s. I was blogging about the new Pretzel M&M's. Try them. They're my new fave.

Laundry Room Redo

Recently I was talking to a new friend of mine about my well-documented boy drama. She could relate to the situation in a way most people can't: she is about the same age I am and her husband was killed in an accident about a month before Matt. We don't know each other well, but it's amazing how clued-in you can become to someone else's life when you share something of that magnitude. Her parting words to me were: "Well, sounds like you better call your contractor friend and remodel something."

Oh yeah, she's got me pegged. Every bout of extreme boredom and loneliness in the last year and a half has been followed by remodeling or creating of some kind. But I didn't think it was fair to start another project when I still haven't blogged pics of the remodel a very lonely Christmas and New Year brought on. While it wasn't the first element of the last phase of remodeling, I'll start with the laundry room.

BEFORE:

Boring, bland laundry room with absolutely no wow factor and even less storage...seriously uninspiring...

AFTER:

Now I'm not one who needs an incentive to do laundry. For me it is it's own incentive. I like how routine and systematic it is. It relaxes me and I love thinking about how much I'm accomplishing in the day when the machines are actually doing most of the work. But every time we come and go from the house throughout the day, we go through the laundry room. So I wanted it to look more like an entry way, not like a drab utility room.

When I had the crown moulding ripped out of the piano room to do the ceiling in there (another post, sorry!) I had the carpenters move it into the laundry room and powder room. Crown moulding in the laundry room...*sigh*

I had these knobs custom painted for the cabinetry. How fun are those?! Since I took these pictures they have been installed on the cabinets. A friend stopped by the other day and said "These are SO you!" That's one of my favorite compliments, when people see really cute stuff and say it makes them think of me.

I'm not just saying this for the sake of the blog post, but I have to go rotate some laundry now.

Funky Flower Quilt

My friend Krista asked me to make a quilt for her daughter's birthday this week. Having all boys myself, I love the opportunity to do anything girly so of course I said yes. But I am a girly-girl and Krista's girls are funky-girls. So I couldn't get away with a remake of the rose quilt. The pattern we decided on came together quickly and ended up being cuter than I thought it would be.

Krista and the funky girls used to live next door, but they moved last weekend. So instead of being able to pop over to check on my progress, I have to post pictures on the blog for her to see how the quilt has turned out:

Since she chose the fabrics, I'm pretty sure Krista will like it. I'm just hoping it makes the 8-year-old happy!

Not Just a Pretty Face

Have you ever known someone who, on the surface, just didn't seem too bright? But every now and then they'd say something that gave you the idea that the wheels were turning up there after all?

If you've read this blog more than a couple of times, you might have noticed that we sometimes refer to Hunter as the family cheerleader. He has this sweet, happy-go-lucky way of living life that sometimes makes him seem...well...not all there.

But sometimes he gives himself away. Today we went to his future elementary school for developmental assessment for kindergarten. The woman doing the testing asked him if he could please try counting as high as he could go. "By fives or tens?" he asked.

My Loss is Your Gain

I've been trying all day to figure out how to write this post without mentioning the origin of the sentiment, but it's not possible. This is my blog and I blog my life. But in fairness to the other party I'll be vague. Sort of.

I have just survived one of the most painful weekends of my life. Unfortunately the pain isn't over, but at least the weekend is. That sounds dramatic, I know, but it's true. Until recently I haven't dated since Matt's death. And if it were completely up to me I probably still wouldn't. But this guy just sort of...happened. He is cute, and charming, and funny, and smart--not to mention awesome with my boys, and did I say cute? Seriously dreamy blue eyes. I'm a sucker for laugh lines.

So we went out...and then we went out again...and again...and a few more 'agains'. And there were times when I knew it wasn't going to go anywhere but I wanted it to because he fit 19 of the 23 "Requirements for a Guy" as I have outlined in my Blackberry. Plus I said he's cute, remember? But as of this weekend we're not dating anymore...because I'll always belong to another man. His decision, not mine. I wish I could express how intensely painful it is to be rejected over something like that, something that will never go away, something over which I have no control, something he knew before he started dating me.

Saturday afternoon, right in the middle of the break-up, I went upstairs to get Seth after his nap. Right at the top of the stairs is a really beautiful, rather large picture of Matt. I crumbled in a heap on the floor and sobbed into my arms when I saw it. As mascara-stained tears soaked my sleeve I thought of how I had betrayed my deceased husband...for nothing...for a man who could never see past my circumstances to who I am and love me like Matt had. Or at all. I cried so hard that a pool of slimy, clear snot formed on my arm with a steady stream still connecting it to my nose.

About the time there was a break in the sobs, my dear sister walked in with Specimen #2. Sisters are good that way. So here it is, the All-American Chocolate Cake from Costco:





I cheered up just for a little bit. Sunday I spent most of the day crying again, and as I sacked out on the couch with a blanket and tissues I apologized to my kids for being a crappy mom. They insisted I'm not a crappy mom. "Really? What's not crappy about me?" I asked. "You gave us chocolate cake for dinner last night," they said, "and a crappy mom would never give their kids chocolate cake for dinner."

He's No Fool

Brig is in the 2nd grade. The 2nd grade discipline system at his school is based on each student starting the day with a certain number of stars, which get taken away during the day for various infractions. At the end of the day the teacher writes the number of stars each student ended up with on their folders. They bring them home, the parent signs to indicate they are aware of the student's behavior, and the folders go back to the teacher the next day. If a parent forgets to sign the folder, the kid automatically loses a star.

Brig has never lost a star. I'm pretty sure it would be catastrophic for him. While I have reassured him many times that I will still love him and be proud of him if he does, he doesn't feel like he can risk it.

This morning Brig brought me his folder to sign and informed me that I had forgotten to sign the day before. He should have lost a star, "but it's okay," he said. "I just told Mrs. M you were grouchy that day and she said 'No biggie'."

His perfect star record remains untarnished...